


Truthfully, I

by cecilantro



Series: 100 Days Of Ficlets [17]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 21:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13983660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: Caleb's grown to like when Molly touches his shoulder, his leg, kisses the top of his head.It's a shame he hurts so badly that it's not possible right now.





	Truthfully, I

**Author's Note:**

> From an anon on tumblr,  
> "Would you ever make something w/ werewolf!Caleb (if you haven't already). I love your writing!!!"  
> (Thank you btw! <3)
> 
> I'm always looking for prompts, friends, because sometimes I can't think of anything for the prompts I have.  
> Hmu on tumblr (Mollymockerytealeaf)  
> (You can send me song prompts, too! I like those)
> 
> Additionally, if you like my work, you can support me by commenting, kudos-ing, sharing, or [buying me a coffee](https://ko-fi.com/cecilantro)!

Mollymauk is so very physically affectionate, and it bothers Caleb at first. After a few days, though, he finds himself quite used to it, and even feels himself beginning to pine when Molly hasn’t patted his shoulder or stroked his hair or kissed the top of his head for a few hours.  
He’s not the only one. Aside from Beau, Molly is the one everyone looks to when they do something they’re proud of. Even Nott. She completes the moves for a new spell and looks to Molly, who is _absolutely_ watching her, grinning, radiating pride like a halo of glow. He gives her a thumbs up, and Nott’s eyes light up. She then turns to Caleb, who nods his approval, his expression, his face softening, he’s not always great at expressing pride. Not like Molly.  
Thankfully, he’s proud enough for the both of them.  
Jester lands a neat, strong hit on an enemy and turns to Molly in the heat of battle, and Caleb watches him transform in a second from raging beast with adrenaline pulling every tendon in his neck taut, to soft, proud, affectionate. He mouths _good job_ and she beams and turns, flicking her fingers to send the giant sucker spiralling for their next enemy.  
Fjord looks to Molly less for his pride and more for his reassurance, sweeping his hand through the air and tightening his fingers around his falchion as it materialises, looks to Molly out of the corner of his eye. Molly looks back, determined, he nods. Fjord swings his other hand around and launches blasts of black magic at his prey.  
Molly punctuates everything with physical affection, when he can. Putting an arm around Jester’s shoulders and squeezing after a battle, patting her hair when she’s disappointed about losing a card game to Nott’s slippery fingers. Offering a cautious handshake to Beau when she does something cool, which she reciprocates just as cautiously. Laying a hand on Fjord’s arm, Nott’s shoulder, Caleb’s knee, partway through a conversation, just for the sensation of contact.  
More recently, when travelling, he’s started resting his head on Caleb’s shoulder or knee, depending on where they’re sitting and which is most convenient. A couple of times, in fact, Caleb has looked to him to find him asleep, and idly strokes through his hair.

If Molly touches Caleb more frequently, slightly differently to the way he touches the others, nobody notices, or comments on it at least.  
Molly, in fact, has gotten so used to touching Caleb casually that when his gentle contact is met with a sudden flinch and a hiss, it concerns him.  
He pulls his hand back from Caleb’s leg and leans in a little closer, watching the flicker of disappointment in Caleb’s eyes.  
“Are you okay?” Molly asks, low and quiet, so nobody but Caleb can hear.  
“Yes, just… sore.” Caleb replies, and chews the inside of his lip a little, wondering whether to say more. He decides against it, and instead creeps his hand down from the table to tap Molly gently, and Molly nods, slips his fingers between Caleb’s, out of sight.  
The contact calms Caleb, and it hurts a lot less than his legs and arms and back.  
“Did you see the moon last night, guys?” Jester asks excitedly, “I think it was full! It was so big and shiny and round…”  
Caleb looks visibly ill, his eyes are locked hard on his drink, which is rippling gently from his shaking hand. Molly squeezes his hand gently, and Caleb lets out a breath slowly in response. Molly listens to him as he takes his breathing carefully, regulating, seven seconds in and eleven seconds out.  
Jester continues to ramble about the moon, and Molly sees Nott’s eyes flicker between her and Caleb, vacillating between mirrored excitement, and concern. He has pieces of the puzzle, he just can’t quite put them together yet.  
  
Once Jester and Beau retire, escorting Nott upstairs when they leave, Fjord, Molly, and Caleb are left at the table. Fjord drains his glass.  
“I think I might join ‘em, it’s been a long day, an’ I could do with the rest. You comin’, Molly?”  
Molly looks to Caleb, who is still staring into his glass and looking like he can see the universe in the whiskey there.  
“I’ll stick around a little longer.” Molly tells him, easy tone, a languid smile, he lifts his glass, “I’ll catch you up later.”  
“A’right.” Fjord stands. “Night Molly, night Caleb.”  
“G’night.” Molly nods, and squeezes Caleb’s hand when he doesn’t respond.  
“Hm? Oh, _nacht._ ”  
Fjord looks to Molly, a little surprised, and Molly raises his eyebrows, half-lidded eyes, dismissal.  
Fjord nods, and takes his leave.  
Molly watches him leave, and once he’s certain he’s asleep, Molly leans over to Caleb.  
“I have something that can help with muscle pain, if you want to swap that for the story.”  
Caleb eyes him wearily for a moment, and it’s the constant, screaming ache down his spine that gives him the means to relent.  
“Alright, as long as no-one else sees or hears about this.”  
Molly clicks his acceptance.  
“I’ll rent out another room for the night. We should drop in on Nott on the way up, tell her we’re-”  
“Nott already knows.” Caleb interrupts before Molly can complete the _undoubtedly_ embarrassing excuse. Molly nods sagely.  
“Of course. Back in a moment.” He lets go of Caleb’s hand and stands, sauntering to Wessik with his easy smile, dropped shoulders, and two gold in bribe money. (Of which, Wessik takes only one.)  
Molly turns and waves a key at Caleb, proudly. Caleb smiles and stands and lumbers slowly, painfully, over to Molly and past, up the stairs.  
Molly follows.  
  
They stop in on Nott on the way up, a conversation Molly hears muffled by the door as Caleb explains to her he’ll sleep elsewhere tonight, not to let the others know, and to wake them in the morning.  
Or at least, that’s what he _tells_ Molly he said to her, and Molly has no choice but to take his word for it.  
Molly offers his hand to Caleb when he leaves Nott’s room, and Caleb takes it, and lets Molly lead him down the hall, into their new, shared room.  
“Settle yourself down, I’ll set up for you.” He smiles at Caleb and very, very gently kisses Caleb’s temple, lets him go.  
Caleb crawls to the bed and begins to slowly, carefully remove his boots, his books, his coat. He tries to go for his shirt, and winces hard. Nott had helped him into his clothes that morning, bless her tiny hands and concerned, gentle pats.  
“Mollymauk?” He asks, quietly, almost guilty by tone. Molly pauses from his place at the windowsill, where he’s halfway through tipping a small, velvet pouch of something into a bowl.  
“Yes?” He replies, looking at Caleb over his shoulder. Caleb smiles gingerly at him,  
“Could you help me, um…” He gestures to himself slightly, “Undress?”  
Molly can’t fight the suggestive smirk, but he sets his supplies gently on the windowsill and makes his way over.  
“Begging me to undress you in a private room?” Molly sighs as he bends, dramatic, to level himself at eyes with Caleb, “That’s bold.”  
“Molly,” Caleb begs, “Please.”  
Molly gives a gentle, relenting sigh, and scooches to Caleb’s side. He rolls Caleb’s shirt up, grits his teeth,  
“This will probably hurt, but it’ll be over faster than getting you to lift your arms.” He tells Caleb, and before the wizard can make words, Molly tugs the back of his shirt over his head. Caleb yelps at the sudden strain and pressure, and Molly moves quickly to pull the shirt down his arms and free him of the pain.  
Caleb gasps a sigh, and Molly tosses his shirt to the pile of coat and book at the side, places his arm gently at Caleb’s back, and lowers him to the bed.  
He makes a better job of tugging Caleb’s pants off, it’s much easier, and Caleb sighs his thanks and crawls, literally, onto the bed completely. Molly returns to his bowl.  
Caleb is exhausted, he hurts, and he’s trusting himself to Mollymauk in his entirety. He cracks his eyes open, near-glowing slithers of the most vivid blue, and he watches Molly.  
A pinch of this, a tipple of that, a dash of a brownish liquid from a tiny bottle. Eventually, Molly tips the contents carefully into a metal funnel, and that siphons the liquid from the pulp of whatever Molly has put in, and drips it slowly into another tiny bottle. This liquid is opaque, almost pearlescent, and bright blue.  
Molly turns and carries the whole thing toward Caleb, sets it down beside the bed, and leaves it to drip slowly, tracking time. Drip. Drip. Drip.  
Molly sits beside Caleb on the bed, and the wizard crawls, curls up to him with pained hums, Molly feels warmth as Caleb curves as painlessly as he can as close as he can around Molly’s form.  
“What is it?” Caleb asks, his voice is more of a murmur than anything. Molly strokes the top of Caleb’s head very, very gently.  
“That,” Molly tilts his head to the bottle, “Is a potent painkiller and relaxant.”  
“Will it help?”  
“Alone? Temporarily.” Molly answers, and Caleb frowns, groans a little.  
“This usually lasts…” He struggles for thought and words, “A few days. I need- I like it when you touch me. It hurts.”  
“Ah,” Molly smiles, “Once you’ve taken it, I’ll be performing my _own_ magic.” He wiggles his fingers, tilts his head the other way, his eyes half-lidded, and Caleb blinks slowly, a tired sign of surprise.  
“There will be plenty of touching, and all you have to do is be calm.” Molly smiles at him, “And trust me.”  
“I do.” Caleb replies.  
“Then trust this, Caleb, I like touching you as much as you do.” The phrasing is awkward, the meaning is heartfelt, “This is for me as well as you.”  
The dripping has slowed.  
Molly looks over the edge of the bed.  
“That should be enough.” He tells Caleb, and leans away from the warm body to pick the bottle from the floor. He takes out the funnel, and Caleb watches with only the slightest shiver down his spine as Molly instinctively licks the smeared blue drops off of it before standing and heading to put it down on the windowsill. Caleb let out a gentle whine at his absence.  
“It’s okay.” Molly soothes, and makes his way back, swirling the liquid in the tiny bottle, “You only need a small gulp, maybe a third of what I have for now, I’ll keep the rest in case this doesn’t work.”  
Caleb struggles and sits up, and lets Molly tip the glass bottle against his lips.  
It tastes very similar to the way his magic feels, somehow electric and soft at once, warm, flooding, and there’s a taste of lavender that hits the back of Caleb’s tongue.  
Molly strokes Caleb’s shoulder, gently, and it’s half for comfort and half to watch as Caleb’s winces fade further and further into a contented, serene expression.  
“Better?” Molly asks, and Caleb hums happily. Molly leans down to him and kisses the top of his head.  
“Alright, stretch out, time for me to work.” Molly nudges him, Caleb does as he’s told.

 

Caleb wakes up to sunlight cracking through the window, and Molly entwined with him. He could second guess where he ends and the tiefling begins, he feels a leg hooked around his own, he thinks Molly’s chin is on his head, holding Molly is like cuddling a flask of hot water. A really big, very attractive, purple flask of hot water.  
His body still aches, but it’s so much better than it usually is, and he can’t remember much past Molly kissing his head after the blue potion. Whatever Molly has done, Caleb feels as though knots have been untied, and the net they created to hold his pain and aches and tension has collapsed under Molly’s skillful fingers.  
He knows that Molly is awake by the deliberate way he strokes Caleb’s back, and he realises quite suddenly that both of them are in the bare minimum of acceptable clothing and therefore there is a _lot_ of skin-to-skin contact going on. Caleb’s cheek, for example, is pressed to the gnarled, scarred skin of Molly’s chest.  
“Morning.” Caleb murmurs, and Molly draws back so he can look at him.  
“Feeling better?”  
“Better than I usually do.” Caleb smiles at him, “You’re a miracle.”  
“My hands are.” Molly smirks at him, and he feels Molly’s fingers drum a light rhythm against his back. Caleb muffles a giggle. Molly raises his eyebrows.  
“Sensitive?”  
“A little.” Caleb admits, and bites his lip against the series of noises that threaten to break through him when Molly runs his fingers delicately across his back, up the skin of his waist, against his ribs. Molly places his hand flat to Caleb’s chest.  
“You never gave me the story.” he says, and Caleb’s warm, affectionate expression falls to concern.  
“I am worried,” he says, moving to lay his hand over the one Molly has on his chest, “That if I tell you, this will end.”  
Molly sighs and leans in to kiss Caleb’s forehead, gentle and affectionate.

“I can’t promise anything until I hear it, but I hope not.” He tells Caleb, “Because I’m in love with you.”  
It doesn’t surprise Caleb. Somewhere between the flirting and the touching, he figured it out.  
He looks up to meet Molly’s eyes.  
“Before I tell you, would you kiss me?” He asks, his voice doesn’t tremble, doesn’t betray his nervousness. He’s confident that this will end badly, he wants something to take out of it when Molly turfs him out of the group for being a danger.  
“Are you sure?” Molly asks, searching Caleb’s eyes for any hint of doubt. For anything that isn’t resignation. He doesn’t find it.  
“Please.” replies Caleb, and Molly leans in to close the gap and press his lips to Caleb’s, gentle, there’s a lot in it that could never be expressed in words.  
Caleb dares to hope.

They break apart, but they stay entwined, and Caleb thinks that it will hurt more when Molly untangles himself with disgust in his eyes.  
(But maybe…)  
Caleb takes a breath. It shakes.  
“I…” he tries, and it catches, and he tries again, “When I was younger, I, I, I encountered some… trouble, my magic, it attracted attention. From, from the empire, and from their enemies, from gangs, I…” Caleb gulps down, “I’m a werewolf, Mollymauk. Every full moon, I lose myself, I, I try, I don’t think I’ve ever hurt someone I love, but I stop being… me, and become a, a, a beast.”  
He screws his eyes closed, tenses, waits for the disgust and rejection.  
He feels Molly shift.  
Then he’s being pulled in, tight, and Molly’s nose bumping his own is the first moment of warning before Molly kisses him again, slower this time, hotter, somehow more gentle.  
“That’s all?” Molly asks when they finish. Caleb looks at him somewhere between shock and horror. Molly realises it wasn’t the right thing to say.  
“It haunts me, Mollymauk, that I hurt people.”  
“I’m sorry.” Molly apologises, “But I mean, in relation to me… it doesn’t matter. I won’t mention it to the others, I’m still…” He looks Caleb over, “I’m still in love with you. Nothing has changed.”  
Caleb wells up.  
Molly pulls him tight again.  
“I have some more of that potion left.” he whispers in Caleb’s ear and Caleb, wincing, nods against his shoulder.  
Molly slips over Caleb to get at the bottle, corked and on the floor, and Caleb puts a hand to the side of his neck when Molly is above him.  
“I like this.” He says, playful, and Molly smirks back at him.  
“You can get used to it.” He replies, and, softly, he kisses him.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, if you like my work, you can support me by commenting, kudos-ing, sharing, or [buying me a coffee](https://ko-fi.com/cecilantro)!
> 
> Help fund my caleb cosplay pls :'(


End file.
